Consumed
by Pinkster Lily
Summary: "You are not inadequate," he whispers to me, his hand finding my face and imbedding in my hair. I want to tell him that I can't understand why he desires me in this way, when I can barely function on a daily basis and so many have made it clear that my adolescent body means more to them than the adult mind trapped within it. The words bubble in my throat, but don't leave. SLASH
1. Part 1

_This started out as a oneshot but then became something a little more… involved. It's almost entirely pre-written at this point due to how it was initially conceived, so hopefully updates will be slightly more frequent than they have been lately._

_Just a note: I take some liberties with Alec's power, given how little we know about the exact mechanics of it, as well as with his personality and relationships. I hope you enjoy my interpretation of him._

Consumed  
>Written By: Pinkster Lily<p>

Part I

He presses his lips on my forehead, ruffling my hair gently. His hand comes to rest around the back of my neck and sits there, a solid pressure against my spine. "My dearest child," he says compassionately, gazing at me with wide, red eyes.

That term usually upsets me, however, in comparison to Aro, I am a child. Right now, I feel like one, too.

"Do not fret. That is all behind you. You know that you are safe here and nothing can ever hurt you."

I nod. I know this; deep down I understand it and can even grow, on occasion, to feel powerful in that very unforgiving and eternal way that the others feel, but the sense of my perpetual strength waxes and wanes with the recollection of what happened to me, of what is happening to me. It hasn't stopped and that's all I want anymore, I just want it to stop. It makes me feel every year of my real age, as if each passing decade is a figurative weight added to my shoulders, dragging me down until I am about level with the floor and feel about as worthy, too. If I could just be more like Jane, stronger, impenetrable—

"But you are not," Aro interrupts, his hand tightening on my nape. "This is what makes you special, Alec. Jane is valuable to the Volturi in her own way, but you are a treasure to us."

I know what he is implying, that Jane is so valued because of her unique ruthlessness and I am needed to counter that cruelty, to think before I act and sacrifice myself when needed for the greater good; to think outside of myself in a way that she cannot – in a way none of them can. The answering crinkle around Aro's milky eyes reaffirms this.

His words act like a soothing balm, but I still worry a little, deep inside my mind. Still have doubts. Aro knows this and accepts it in a way Caius can't.

He thinks my problems are a sign that I am not completely loyal. Aro knows that they are not.

Aro sighs. "How I wish at times that I could have your extraordinary gift," he muses, straightening and pulling me briefly into his side with calculated squeezes and slight shakes of my shoulders. He releases me and holds me at arms' length. "If only to relieve you of these terrible visions, is all."

I don't bother processing his words, too busy trying to will some life back into my expression and reconstruct my fractured mind. Aro is only one of two people who are allowed to see me this way, but I need to pull myself together again at some point. He can't coddle me all day.

"Come now, my child," he beckons, his papery hand at the joint of my shoulder and neck, pushing me along in front of him. "The search party will be back at any moment and we must be presentable for them."

I nod and attempt to paste a convincing small onto my face, not that it would matter, considering Aro's particular gift. We stop in front of the doors to his personal chambers and I turn in confusion.

Aro bends down to look me in the eye, compensating for our extreme height difference. His hand slides up from my neck and cups my cheek gently. I stay still, obedient, as he presses his pale lips briefly to my other cheek before pulling back.

His skin feels cold against mine.

"Let us face the day," he states simply, hand going into my hair and coming to rest on my opposite shoulder, almost like an embrace. He guides me out of the chambers and down the hall.

The hall is silent, but for the soft clacking of our shoes and the whispering of our robes against the stone. He squeezes my shoulder and adds, as if our conversation had never halted, "Besides, the next few days should prove interesting enough to keep your mind occupied."

"They have the boy?" It's more of a question asked because of follow-through. I don't leave the castle much; my unpredictable… well, I would be a liability if I was out in the field all the time. Instead, I spend a lot of time trolling the Internet for lawbreakers and the like – the technological age of humanity has lent itself well to constant documentation. Oddly enough, I seem to be one of the few vampires in the guard capable of using humanity's newest technologies, which is why the task of online monitoring is delegated to me. Personally, I couldn't be bothered with the target; I'll likely never see him again after the Volturi have their way with him. I just want to know if my reconnaissance was useful.

Aro chuckles. "Over eager, are we?" he teases lightly in that child-like way of his. "I am excited for our newest acquisition. The potential is… quite noteworthy."

I am sure that there are a few other words Aro is thinking of, but I don't bother myself with them. Aro is, well… Aro. I would be deluding myself if I didn't believe that he enjoys collecting gifted individuals to display for all to see.

He squeezes my shoulder one last time, letting go of me and removing the last bit of skin on skin contact. His delicate skin whispers like paper against mine.

"Let us greet our newest guest," Aro intones cheerfully, leading the way to the throne room to wait for the party. I trail behind him, steeling myself against the inevitable.


	2. Part 2

Consumed  
>Part Two<p>

Aro has always had a flair for the dramatic; one that is dutifully entertained by all in the Guard, begrudgingly tolerated by Caius, and taciturnly endured by Marcus.

Just like every other time we've had a visitor, this tendency has come out as if accompanied by flashing lights and a neon sign declaring, _Look here_.

The whole affair begins with Aro uttering ominously, "Bring him into the light."

This time is no different than any of the others. The command itself sounds perfectly cold and sound of Aro's voice, authoritative and resolute, is enough to spur the two guards into action. We all know that he is only half serious in his unspoken threat to end us if we don't obey – it's a little show for our guest.

The grand wooden doors slam shut behind them and they move gracefully forward from the far end of the dark council chamber to the forefront of the numerous vampire groupings. Their eager red eyes betray the interest that's hidden from their features; they wait for what they all know is about to happen and it excites them.

A boy, who was hanging limply between the two guards upon their dramatic entrance, jumps to life at the sudden commotion, struggling in vain against the two vampires who hold him captive and too preoccupied with them to even glance at the rest of the room. I watch with muted curiosity from my section of the congregation, silent.

I know that he is exceedingly intelligent and perceptive, the very traits that Aro had chosen him for, so he must understand that any escape he can formulate is futile. Nonetheless, his human instinct of fight or flight kicks in as he feels his body begin to move and he jerks roughly against the stone-like arms of his captors.

Once the triad reaches the very edge of the small strip of sunlight that penetrates the otherwise black room, the guards thrust him into it, careful not to let the light touch their skin. The boy falls, unable to catch himself, and the muffled _thump _of his body making contact with the hard floor echoes against the high ceiling. I hear his low hiss of pain and, eventually, after what seems like minutes, he pushes himself up with his hands into a kneeling position.

Shrouded in darkness, I continue to observe the boy as he glances frantically around the room for the first time. His weak human eyes cannot see our forms, cannot even discern the walls from the surrounding darkness.

However, the sight of dozens of pairs of red, glowing eyes refracting the dim light registers in his slow-working mind and the scent of fear and the adrenaline emanates from him in waves. It heightens the sweet smell of his blood, but it's not enough to ignite anything more than a dull burn in my throat.

The guards who had brought him forth fade into the darkness and he is left alone, haloed by a small rectangle of sunlight. His hair is like soft, languid flames, a peculiar shade of bronze reminiscent of warm campfires in the dark of night, his eyes sharply green as they dart around, from corner to corner to corner. I marvel at the dusting of freckles left on his cheekbones from years of exposure to the summer sun.

Despite his seeming alertness, though, his eyes are bloodshot and dark circles ring them, almost purple against his pale skin. His arms are bare and covered in fine golden hair that glints in the sunlight. I purse my lips against the sight of dark bruises on his forearms – he didn't come without a struggle.

Aro approaches slowly, out of the boy's line of vision until he is only a few feet away. As soon as Aro is close enough for him to see, the boy gasps, shocked at the sudden and unfamiliar appearance of the older man.

A papery, white hand emerges from beneath Aro's dark robes and he reaches for the boy, who flinches away from it like it's poisoned. The sound of a hundred chimes bounces around the room, oddly varied and faint. The boy's wild eyes search for the source, impossible to pinpoint in the din.

A fresh, dry chiming causes the boy to focus back on Aro. Understanding spreads across the boy's features as he realizes that the man before him is chuckling.

"My dear child," Aro says, reaching out his hand again, but careful to keep it out of the light. "Do not be frightened."

The boy shakes his head, leaning away from Aro as far as his awkward kneeling position allows him. Blinking against the bright light, he declares, "You're going to kill me."

Another round of chiming laughter ensues, but a short wave of Aro's hand causes it to cease almost immediately. I stand silent throughout the exchange, despite the amusement of the vampires around me.

Curious, I watch as Aro answers him with more honesty than the boy could have expected from anyone else in the room. "Yes," Aro begins, "but you will awaken to so much more."

The boy shakes his head. "But I won't be _me_, anymore, will I?" He leans back slightly further, as if repelled, and answers his own question before Aro has a chance. "No, no I won't."

I tip my head to the side, intrigued. It was one thing to read about it, but seeing his abilities in person is shockingly bizarre. I know of the boy's promise as a vampire, his impossible deductive skills splattered across nearly every newspaper in America, but his talents still take me off guard.

Aro, speculative, cuts my thoughts short. "No, I cannot promise that you will be the same, but that is not necessarily bad."

"And I don't have a choice, anyway." It's a statement rather than a question.

Aro's voice almost sounds remorseful. "Unfortunately, you do not."

The boy bows his head and runs a hand through his already tousled hair.

"If you would allow me?" Aro's hand is still outstretched and the boy looks at it, wary. "You know what I will do, yes?"

The boy nods. Low whispers fill the room, although not loud enough for him to register.

"Then, you have nothing to fear." Aro's eyes are kind, his voice gentle, as if coaxing a wild animal to come toward him. The boy stretches out his hand slowly and, when he hesitates just inches away from Aro's hand, his own hovering over it, Aro reaches out and grasps it lightly.

Dazzling rays of light illuminate the chamber, casting the shadowy forms inhabiting its edges into relief. The boy is distracted by the shimmering light for only a moment before he turns his eyes to source of the rainbows of light; the shale-like hand gripping his own.

Aro sighs and releases the boy's hand, stepping back. The brief rays of light, which had revealed to the boy the countless figures clinging to the boundaries of the room, disappear and the boy is left blind to our existence once again, except for our radiant eyes.

"What now?" The boy asks, concern coloring his voice. He is still scanning the edges of the room, eyes straining to define shapes he has no hope of being able to see. I can hear his heart speed up, knowing that the end of his humanity is near.

"Now, we change you," Aro states simply. "It will be painful. It will seem like it will last forever, but it will be over quickly."

Aro's fingers twitch, a minute movement that is meant for me. "If you would like, there is a guard who can take away the pain, but to do so would involve removing your other senses for the duration of the change."

I shift slightly on my feet, my cloak barely a whisper against the stone beneath me. I edge forward, careful to stay hidden from the boy's eyes.

"Neither is really a great choice, is it?"

I nearly jerk to a halt in a manner most ungraceful for a vampire of my stature. I see Jane's eyes flicker over to me from the corner of my eye before training themselves back on the spectacle in the center of the chamber.

Aro shrugs agreeably. "You need not make your decision immediately. Take a moment to decide."

Aro lifts a hand and waves it dismissively through the air. The gathering of vampires in the room stirs, recognizing their part in the script, and filters out of the chamber through the heavy double doors. Their steps are light, muted, and their cloaks rustle quietly as they glide away. It's all part of the act, performed many times for varying audiences.

I stay like always, moving along the wall toward Aro. I glance at Jane as she brushes by me while rolling her eyes at the human boy's indecision. I don't find it as ridiculous as she does, as prolonging his choice provides me with the opportunity to further savor a possible future where he might not want my gift – one, however unlikely, that would allow me the freedom to spend the next days in peace – but I nod to her anyway and wait until the last of the Guard leaves and the doors shut with a resounding thud.

My footsteps are silent as I meander over to them, shrouded by my cloak. Although the boy doesn't see me until I am only a few feet away, he seems to sense that I am there long before I come into view, his eyes staring into the shapeless darkness, waiting. He takes in my alien appearance without expression – my short, dark hair, my red eyes, and the slight stature that lends me a somewhat benign appearance. I come to a halt at his side.

My own face is emotionless and carefully schooled. He stares at me, eyes boring into mine as if he knows my every thought and dream, as if he can see every single atom that makes up my existence and deems them worthless. The unspoken words are held in his gaze, deeply suspicious and relentless in an almost inhuman way.

His gaze unnerves me, makes my stomach clench and my hair stand on end.

He will make a good vampire.

Aro speaks for me, asking the question whose answer will dictate how I spend my time over the next few days. "What is your choice, Edward?"

The boy glances back at me, silent. His piercing gaze seemingly sums me up in the two sweeps his eyes make over my unassuming body; he knows what my purpose is, I see the realization in his expression as soon as his sluggish human brain makes the connection of my presence with Aro's offer. Simultaneously, his posture stiffens, shoulders curling in away from me, rejecting me. Determination takes hold of his features.

"Pain."

"As noble a choice as any," Aro smiles. He lifts the boy to his feet with ease, stepping into the sunlight. Aro's hair is haloed like that of a dark angel's; the boy gasps again, awed. The boy's hair is lit like fire by the rays of multicolored light bouncing from Aro's skin, giving him an almost ethereal glow. My own skin glimmers slightly in the refracted beams and I feel uncomfortable as the boy scrutinizes us both, enraptured.

I am not used to such innocent, inquisitive staring; too often, I am looked at with fear and disgust.

"I will look like this," he states flatly, a stark contrast to the expressions flickering across his features. Aro nods. "It will just belie the truth of what I am about to become."

His reaction makes sense now, the stoic voice and angry eyes – I am once again surprised by his intuition, despite my knowledge of his gifts, but I suppose that is why Aro wanted him.

"Yes," Aro responds before sweeping the boy toward him easily, his frail-looking body disguising the immense strength that he wields. He envelops the tall boy in his arms – his long robes appear almost comical next to the boy's scruffy jeans and t-shirt – and tilts the boy's head to the side with fingers that are embedded in the boy's hair.

Aro's eyes meet mine as he swiftly bites down on the boy's pale neck.

* * *

><p><em>Sounds like Alec might have a lot to be guilty about...<em>

_Don't forget to leave a comment in the review section below!_


	3. Part 3

Consumed

Part Three

I make my way through the winding halls of the castle slowly, in no real rush to get back to my room. I'd left Aro and the boy in a small subterranean room; he was flushed and a thin sheen of sweat had started to gather on his skin, but he hadn't started screaming, yet.

It is impressive, I suppose. However, I'll hold my accolades until after the change is complete. Three days is a long time and even the strongest of us has cracked under the feel of molten fire coursing through our bodies.

I open the doors to my room easily, having no need for locks or keys like humans do. My cloak is off and I'm on my way to one of the cushioned chairs at the far end of the room before I notice that Jane occupies one end of the couch closest to the window.

I give a silent nod in greeting as I sit and pull the book on the coffee table towards me.

"So, based on your current presence, I assume he didn't want you to take away the pain?"

I shake my head, a grim expression fixed onto my face, and start reading at a passage in the middle of the little novel.

"Maybe he isn't so weak after all," Jane speculates from the other side of the couch we are currently occupying. "Of course, we'll have to see if he begs for it to be taken away once the change is further underway."

"Yes, although I doubt that he will ask for it," I muse distractedly, mostly for her benefit. I pull my feet up onto the cushion next to me and tuck my legs into my body. "I think he believes that if he suffers through the pain, it somehow means that he didn't give in to Aro."

Jane chuckles once. "Humans are strange."

She is silent after that, almost shockingly so, and I look up to find her staring at me speculatively. "Something is wrong."

"I'm fine," I begin, turning a page, the standard response out before I can even process what I am saying. It's futile to hide anything from Jane, though, and I am keenly aware of this fact.

"It happened again, didn't it?"

I glance at her, lips pursed, before turning back to my book. It's all she needs in confirmation

"You were behaving strangely in the throne room," she explains in answer to my unspoken question.

I wonder if my behavior was as obvious to everyone, considering that Jane had been with me for all of five minutes and most of that was spent watching Aro's theatrics.

She continues without pause, "I thought it was simply the prospect of having to deal with _him_," she gestures at the air, clearly indicating the boy, "but it's not, is it?" It's a rhetorical question, as she already knows the cause. Her voice is void of pity, but her words carry the weight of her intent. Jane is not an overly emotional being, but we're blood. Aside from Aro, she's the only one who can even begin to understand what's been happening to me.

I sink into the plush cushions and sigh, putting my book down.

"Alec," she sighs, drawing closer and pulling me into her side. "You should have said something earlier."

"And you would do what, exactly?" I snap, feeling terrible as soon as the words leave my mouth. I try to keep the acrimony out of my voice, but fail miserably. "You weren't here and there's nothing to be done about it, anyway."

Jane squeezes me against her again and rubs my arm soothingly, her head on my shoulder. "I wish there were."

I nod, not knowing what to say. We've had this conversation before, many times, and she knows that I don't resent her frequent absences; it's her duty to serve the Volturi, not me, in any way that she can. My bitterness stems from the lack of control I have over my own body.

"At least they're not as bad now, right?" She kisses my cheek, lingers. Her voice whispers along my skin. "You'll feel like yourself again in a few days, I promise." She kisses my face again and retreats to the other end of the sofa to leave me to my thoughts, knowing that I just need to be left to my own devices for now.

I don't answer her or otherwise counter her reassurances, despite the fact that I both feel like it never will be better and yet logically can recognize that it will be, given time. I wish I could believe her, but her words seem empty in light of what happened while she was gone for the reconnaissance mission and again to retrieve the boy. I'd never tell her, but this bout was the worst that I've had in a long time; the suffocating fear that it is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg looms over me like an imposing shadow.

The weight of it presses down on my chest and muddles my mind, making it difficult to breathe normally. I hold my breath, not wanting to modulate it any longer and not caring about the uncomfortable sensation that follows such an act because if I don't care, if I focus on this one thing, I might be able to hold myself together a little while longer.

After a few minutes of pretending to read my book, I am able to actually do so without great distraction. Jane made fun of my choice of book at first, but the Italian children's book caught my eye while I was in the bookstore in town and it has proved quite entertaining.

One needs a little amusement in a place like this.

I devour the pages quickly, the sunlight occasionally filtering into the room through the thin curtains on the windows. The sweet summer breeze is pleasant and I smile to myself as it brushes against my skin.

I go down to the throne room once with Jane over the next few days to feed, although my desire for blood is relatively faint. Once I'm done, I proceed out into the castle courtyard and watch the day progress from one of the benches there.

The boy's change will end soon, but I don't bother myself with it. His refusal to take advantage of my gift allows me to relax, a welcome change after the last few nightmarish days. I feel so ridiculously tired that I can't even think about what will happen when my small bit of peace is brought to an end.


End file.
